


Rick's XXXpedition

by EvilEd



Category: The Young Ones (TV 1982)
Genre: Dildos, Established Relationship, Established Rivyan, I'm Going to Hell, Light BDSM, Light Bondage, M/M, Public Sex, Vibrators, no angst for once, so much sex stuff though, vyv has kinks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-05
Updated: 2019-12-05
Packaged: 2021-02-24 16:48:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,418
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21681226
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EvilEd/pseuds/EvilEd
Summary: The boys take Rick to a sex shop for his birthday. Chaos, of course, ensues.
Relationships: Vyvyan Basterd/Rick (Young Ones)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 27





	Rick's XXXpedition

**Author's Note:**

> Is this... an Evil Ed fic...with no angst????
> 
> ...Don't get used to it.
> 
> I'm defs going to hell for this one anyway, though. So I guess it's still on-brand. Hope you enjoy :)

  
Rick rounded the corner at a borderline frantic speed, his eyes obscured by dark glasses and his red hat pulled down over his face. He’d wrapped his brown trench coat around him tightly and turned up the collar, which  _ might _ have helped to hide his identity of he wasn’t such a ridiculous theatrical twat. The other three Codrington flatmates trailed behind him, thoroughly disinterested in the poet’s behaviour, and only moderately interested in the activity he’d planned for the day.

“Slow down, Rick. Place isn’t gonna bloody close!” Vyv said. 

“ _ Sssh _ !” Rick hissed, “Don’t call me that!”

“What? Rick? S’your name, isn’t it?”

“Ssh!” Rick clapped a hand over Vyv’s mouth (a gesture the punk would have murdered him for had it not been his birthday) and pulled him into the shadows, “ _ Use the aliases we discussed, Neil. _ ”

“Piss off. I’m not calling you that. And stop calling me Neil!”

“ _ Come on _ !” Rick whispered, “We have to protect our reputations! What if word gets out that you and I are...you know… at a place like this, together...”

“Does it matter?”

“It does if you want to be a doctor! You  _ do _ want to be a doctor, don’t you?”

“Spose.” Vyv shrugged.

“ _ So use the aliases! _ ”

“No.”

_ “Vyv-Neil!” _

“What?” Neil looked up from the spot on the pavement he’d been evaluating.

“No! You’re Janine, remember?”

“Oh, right. Sorry.”

“Time’s a-wasting, lads. Can we get on with it?” Mike glanced at his watch with a frown.

“ _ Certainly _ Michael. As soon as  _ Neil _ calls me by my proper name.”

Vyv groaned, “Come on,  _ Sir Adrian Dangerous. _ You’re lucky it’s your bloody birthday.”

He threw his arm around Rick’s shoulders and led him down the street with Neil and Mike stepping in behind.

“Why doesn’t Mike need an alias?” Neil asked.

“Simple, Janine. Nobody will ever believe Mike the Cool Person set foot in a shop that provides sexual aids.”

They crossed the street and turned another corner, with Rick clinging to the wall the entire time. Vyvyan was quick to point out that nobody would be particularly surprised or horrified to see either of them set foot in a sex shop, but his observations were promptly rebuked. They stopped at the store’s front window to - as Rick put it - take in the filth, the rebellion and the anarchy. Unfortunately for the poet, there wasn’t much to see. The windows had been sealed up with brown paper, showing nothing but a worn-out sign.

“ _ Mr Jolly’s Sex Emporium _ .” Neil read, “X rated novelties for every taste.”

“I don’t  _ believe _ it!” Rick yelled, “We’ve come all this way for nothing!”

“What are you on about?” Vyv asked.

“Look at it! It’s obviously closed! Fascists! Pigs! Sychophants! I-”

“Shut up you git!” Vyv cuffed him across the head to silence his shrill whining, “Entrance is in the back.”

“...Oh.” Rick said, “ _ Oh _ . Oo-er! That’s a bit naughty, isn’t it Mike?”

“Shut up, Rick.” Mike replied.

“Sorry Mike.”

They went round to the back of the building and waited (somewhat) patiently while Rick made a show of entering covertly by putting his hands over his face and sneaking through the open door. It was beyond any of them  _ why _ Rick had wanted to go to a sex shop for his birthday in the first place - he was turning twenty, for Christ’s sake, not bloody eighteen. But Vyv had insisted (see: threatened) that they should indulge him for the day. It was, after all, his first birthday without his parents, and since Vyv had already caught him crying about it twice, he thought they’d better go easy on him. So if Rick wanted to perve around a sex shop for a little bit, then perve around a sex shop they would. Even if everyone else had already been hundreds of times, and were thoroughly bored with the prospect.

“ _ Right on _ !” Rick grinned as they passed a neon sign depicting a bloke copping off with a bird, “This is pretty  _ anarchic _ , isn’t it? They’ll go potty for this at the annual meeting of anti-capitalist Marxists against the nazis!” 

Vyvyan ignored him and grabbed a shopping basket before wandering over to the BDSM section, where he bought most of his collars, cuffs, and padlocks. On the way past the cashier regarded him rather warmly, which Rick was more than a little upset about.

“Morning Vyv. Haven’t seen you in a while.”

“Alright, Daz? Been a bit busy. Do you still do the industrial-strength leather cuffs with the six-inch spikes?”

“Aisle 3.” 

“Brilliant. Broke me last pair the other week.” 

Daz shook his head, “Not my place to ask questions, Vyv, but sometimes I wonder with you.”

Rick slammed into the counter with the force of a raging bull, face red and eyes wide.

“Well you can just blimmin’ well  _ stop _ wondering! What are you, some kind of pervert? Just because you run a  _ sex _ shop? Shame on you!” 

Daz raised an eyebrow at Vyv, regarding Rick with little or no concern. Vyv shrugged. 

“The missus.” He said.

“Ah.” Daz grinned as the blush on Rick’s face deepened, and was supplemented by a sudden outbreak of sweat across his brow. 

“ _ Vyvyan!”  _ Rick hissed. Vyv sighed, rolled his eyes, and pushed the poet into a large display of dildos. 

“Eugh.” Rick said as Vyv began loading up his basket with all the leather and spikes he could find, “Vyv, Vyv! Come and look at this one!”

“What one?”

“ _ This one _ !” Rick held up a particularly large phallic device in fluorescent green, “It looks like a knob made of snot!”

“How would you know?” Vyv replied.

“Blimey, it’s absolutely  _ massive! _ ” Rick’s eyes widened as he turned it over in his hands, “...what’s this cable on the end of it?”

“Dunno. Probably the remote control.”

“What? For a knob? Mine hasn’t got one of those!” 

“Oh bloody hell! Sometimes you really are a  _ virgin _ . Look. If you press the button here, it vibrates, see?” Vyv thrust the pulsating lump of plastic back into Rick’s hands, and Rick responded in awe. 

“ _ Wow! _ What else does it do?” Rick immediately began to fiddle with the various buttons and switches until the so-called “knob made out of snot” not only began to violently shake, but also helicopter itself while the ball bearings in the shaft rotated.

“Ruddy heck!” The poet yelled, and threw the thing upwards in alarm. Vyv made an attempt at catching it, failed, and both of them watched as it crashed into the other display models on the shelves. Some were set off in the process, and others flew across the room in a bizarre cross between Rick’s very best dreams and worst nightmares, but the original instigator seemed to have gone mad. Smoke poured out of one end, the other began to spark while the cable lit up and the ball bearings in the shaft made a grinding noise that couldn’t have been a good sign. The punk and the poet looked at each other, and then made a hasty retreat. They had caused enough chaos in their life together to know that sometimes, the safest option was to quietly back away. 

About three aisles over, in the erotic fiction section, Mike had closed in on a girl that he thought might be worth a go. He snuck up behind her and reached up to tap her on the shoulder, which went down about as well as could be expected in a seedy-looking sex shop rife with potentially sleazy customers.

“Hey, babe, why read about your fantasies when you can live the real thing?” Mike rubbed his newly acquired black eye and offered up a winning smile, “Don’t worry about the shiner - I like a girl with a bit of fight in her. Mike the Cool Person, at your service. Heh, or maybe you could be at mine?” 

The girl was frighteningly silent. She put back the look she was reading and made a beeline for the exit, nearly running over a certain hippie in the process. 

“Don’t be like that darling! At least take a business card!” 

Neil had gone on a hunt for the cruelty-free faux leather display (mostly so that he could complain when there wasn’t one) but had instead stumbled upon a section of various inflatable novelties. 

“Oh, wow. Heavy.” Neil paused, “Well, actually, this is like...the complete opposite of heavy. Really, really light… Oh, uh, sorry miss.”

He righted the display sex doll he’d accidentally knocked over, smiling politely and making a point of maintaining eye contact.

“Um...my name’s Neil.” He shook her hand (still maintaining the all-important eye contact) and looked around the aisle for something to talk about.

“Erm, actually, if you don’t mind me asking...do you find this to be like… a really heavy and oppressive line of work? I mean, I suppose it’s akin to slavery, really. And I don’t want to bring you down or anything, but...do you have a union? Some sort of worker’s support program? Because my friend Rick and I were only just discussing the sexist nature of the sex industry as a whole, and…” Neil frowned, “Do you like...want my jacket?” 

Over in sadomasochism supplies, the birthday boy was becoming a real nuisance, and Vyvyan was nearing the end of his tether. 

“I just don’t understand why anyone would  _ want _ a knob to do all those things.” Rick said, “And also...Vyvyan, what does this do?”

“That’s a riding crop. You hit people with it.” 

“Oh...do people like that?”

“Sometimes.”

“...Do you like that?”

“...Erm.” Vyv cleared his throat, “Sometimes.” 

“What are these for?”

“Handcuffs, for tying people up.” 

“Hmph. That doesn't sound very sexy.  _ Eugh _ , Vyvyan, what  _ is _ this?”

“Oh, that’s a gimp mask, poof.”

“What does it do?” 

“Here.” Vyv unzipped the mouth and eye ports and gently slipped the mask over Rick’s head. 

“It’s heavy.” Rick said, “Smells funny.”

“Yeah, I’m not bloody surprised!” Vyv grinned, “You’re supposed to zip it all up so you can’t tell who’s underneath it.” 

“Why?” 

“Makes it easier to do all the really dirty stuff to them.” Vyv replied, “And makes em’ more submissive.”

He zipped up the mouth slot for emphasis, and his grin widened when Rick was rendered entirely speechless.

“Bloody hell! Finally - a guaranteed way to shut your girly mouth!” 

Rick grappled with the zipper, gave up, and pulled the mask off his head with a huff. 

“Well, I think it’s blimmin’  _ scary _ looking!”

“I think  _ you’re  _ blimmin’ scary looking.” Vyv sneered, “And I still wanna shag the shit out of you.”

“Oh, beautifully put, Vyvyan. Very romantic.”

“Thanks, poof.” He took the mask out of Rick’s hands, put it on and zipped up the back, “What you reckon?”

“I  _ reckon _ you’re a weird pervy who gets off on all this...stuff.” 

“Yeah, I reckon you’re right.” Vyv leaned in, peering at Rick through the holes in the mask, “Give us a kiss, baby.” 

“Piss off!” Rick giggled, “You’ll give me nightmares!” 

Vyv persisted anyways, leaning forward and sticking his tongue in Rick’s mouth till his lip got cut on the zipper. 

“Ow! Get off!” Rick gave the punk a playful shove and simultaneously yanked the mask off his head, safely discarding it amongst the various whips and ties, “I don’t know  _ why _ anybody would want to use any of this stuff!”

“Makes sex better.” Vyv replied. He flexed the spine of a riding crop thoughtfully and wondered what it would be like to use it on his boyfriend. He swatted the backs of Rick’s thighs to gauge the reaction.

“Ruddy heck! Stop that! I mean, we don’t  _ need _ all this, do we Vyv? We do pretty blimmin’ well with just us, don’t we?” 

“I spose. Could always be better.” 

“Well that’s  _ charming _ , isn’t it! I don’t know about you matey, but I’m a sex  _ god _ .” Rick gestured to himself with a snort, “I  _ am  _ sex!” 

Vyv rolled his eyes and wandered a bit further down the aisle, only to come face to face with one of the display dildos from earlier. It looked like a pink reproduction of the “snot-dildo” from earlier, with all the same cables, bells, and whistles. He picked it up, tested it, grinned. 

“Come here a sec, poof.”

“What? What is it? Vyvyan? What’s going on?” Rick rushed over to see what Vyv was so enamored with, and was quickly caught off guard when Vyv grabbed him by the collar of his shirt, pressed him against the shelves and kissed him. Once Rick had settled into the kiss, Vyvyan flicked the vibrator to its lowest setting and pressed it to the front of the poet’s crotch, then gently pushed it back between his legs. Rick squealed into Vyv’s mouth, his eyes rolling back into his head as he melted against a rack of dirty magazines. The punk teased him for a little bit longer, then pulled back with a smug smirk. 

“Want me to show you something else, poof?”

Rick nodded, clearly dazed. Vyv put one arm around his waist, still holding the vibrator in one hand, grabbed a box of condoms and a bottle of lube from one of the shelves, and marched Rick off to the nearest change room. Rick’s squeals and whines echoed around the rest of the shop long after Vyv had finished with him. The walls practically shook.

“...And it’s not like I’m against sexual liberation or anything, right,” Neil continued, “I just think it’s important that both parties are like...equally liberated.”

He turned his back briefly in order to remove his trousers, which he carefully draped over his new friend. The  _ friend _ in question was already dressed in his shirt, jacket, and ankh necklace, leaving him in just his pants and his sneakers. He didn’t mind. This was a really heavy (if not a little one-sided) political discourse they were undertaking, and Neil wasn’t used to  _ anybody _ paying such close attention to what he had to say. In fact, he was so engrossed in the conversation - particularly once they got onto the specifics of paid sex work, and whether or not this could be considered a feminist expression of love and sexuality, or just another way for the government to profit off women as a whole - that he didn’t notice Mike enter the aisle, or even see him approach and attempt to put the moves on a now fully clothed sex doll. 

“Hey, baby. Like the look. In fact, I’d like it even better on my bedroom floor. Say, tonight, around seven?” He slipped his arm around her plastic shoulders and damn near shoved Neil into a rack of inflatable phalluses. 

“Mike! Don’t like,  _ hassle _ her! She’s having a really tough time!”

“Oh, sorry Neil. Didn’t see you there.” He paused to take in the hippie’s state of undress, complemented by the sex doll’s sudden bout of modesty, “...Are uh, you two together, then?”

“Oh, um, well actually, Mike-”

“Say no more, Neil. Say no more! If there’s one thing Mike the Cool Person won’t do, its steal off another guy’s plate. I’ll leave you two alone.” He winked and clapped Neil on the shoulder, then disappeared to try his luck with two girls hanging around the store’s entrance.

“I’m really sorry about that.” Neil lamented, “That’s my housemate, Mike. He’s like, really cool, but between you and me, I’m starting to think he doesn’t  _ actually _ know that much about women. Anyway, like I was saying…” 

Rick staggered out of the change room with a groan, his trousers still down around his ankles, and grabbed onto the wall for support. He had rapidly darkening hickeys scattered from his jaw to his collarbone, and bloodied bite marks across both shoulders. Vyv stepped out after, looking rather pleased with himself but not overly roughed up. Certainly not as roughed up as Rick, anyway. 

“R-ruddy heck.” Rick huffed. 

“Told you, poof. Always room for improvement.” He paused, “I reckon I might buy this.”

“You blimmin’ well better after what we did with it!” The poet replied. 

“You lads ready to make a move?” Mike called, “My alibi’s only good for another fifteen minutes, and then people are gonna start asking questions.”

“Ready Mike!” Neil called back.

“Ready when you are, Michael!” Vyvyan added.

They regrouped at the cash register with Mike at the head of the queue, despite the fact he didn’t have a single item. 

“Can I help you with anything, sir?”

“No thanks, mate. Giving Mike the Cool Person a handicap is like giving a wheelchair to the world’s fastest sprinter. Slows me down,  _ and _ takes it away from someone who needs it.”

“...Right. D’ya wanna step out of the line then, sir?”

“Certainly, certainly. Off you go, Vyv.”

“Thanks Mike.” Vyv replied as he dumped his shopping basket of items on the counter. 

“Alright, Vyv? Anything take your fancy?”

“Yeah, just the collars and cuffs. The ribbed condoms, the extra smooth chocolate flavoured lubricant. Oh, and uh, this one, thanks.” He put the dildo on the counter and winked at Rick, who was already starting to blush. 

“This is the display mod-”

“We used it. In the changing rooms. Well,  _ I _ used it on girly-trousers here, anyway.”

“ _ Vyvyan!” _

“Ah. Say no more. Do you want me to clean it for you, then?”

“Nah, you’re alright. We used a condom, didn’t we poof?”

Rick stormed off, clearly embarrassed, and Vyv paid for his items with a shrug. 

“Cheers, Daz.” He said as he gathered up his things and stepped out of the line while Neil brought the sex doll - still fully clothed - to the front counter with a smile. Meanwhile, a few aisles over, Rick was in a right strop.  _ Why _ did Vyvyan have to be so bloody humiliating?  _ Embarrassing! _ Rick wasn’t sure he’d ever seen his boyfriend embarrassed about  _ anything _ in all the time he’d known him! Just once, Rick wanted to hold some of the cards. Make him squirm the way the punk so often made  _ him _ squirm. But how could he possibly - 

_ That’s a riding crop. You hit people with it. _

_ Do people like that? _

_ Sometimes. _

_ Do you like that? _

_ Erm...sometimes _ .

Oh. Oh! So  _ that _ was the key, was it? Because Vyv had looked pretty bloody embarrassed when faced with that particular prospect. Rick grinned and began to select the scariest looking items from the shelves to take back for his boyfriend’s inspection. 

Back at the counter, the cashier stared at Neil as if he’d gone mad. Not _ just _ because he was only dressed in a pair of Y fronts, and not  _ just _ because all of his clothes had been draped over a sex doll, but because  _ said _ sex doll was not at all fit for sale. 

“Oh, sir, this is the-”

“I’d like to pay for her liberation from slavery, please.”

“...You wanna buy it?”

“ _ No! _ Women aren’t property!” Neil looked at the doll apologetically, as if he hadn’t expected to be faced with such rampant sexism. From several aisles away, Rick’s ear for social justice pricked up, and he immediately yelled out in defense of the young lady Neil was obviously so infatuated with.

“Yeah, what do you think this is, fascist? Eleven seventy-two?”

“...Sir, this is the display model. It’s not technically  _ for _ sale.”

“Look, man. Just tell me how much to free her from her oppressive sexual chains, right?”

The cashier sighed, “Look, she’s been the display model for  _ years _ now. She’s probably filthy. Every Tom, Dick, and Harry’s been sneaking into the changing rooms to try her out. Just grab a new one from the shelf, mate, honestly-”

“That’s exactly why I want to free her from this like, really heavy non-consensual work environment. She’s an individual, man, I can’t just  _ replace _ her with someone else.”

“...Christ. I don’t have the energy for this. You can have her for a tenner, alright?”

Neil handed over the money with a smile and stepped out of the line, eagerly chatting to his new friend about her new life as a liberated woman.

“Hurry up, poof! We’re leaving!” Vyv yelled.

“Alright, alright! Don’t get your knickers in a twist.” Rick sneered as he dumped two baskets onto the glass countertop.

“What’s all this?” Vyv asked. Rick ignored him.

“Daz, was it? I was wondering if you might be able to give me a bit of advice.”

“Certainly, sir. How can I help?”

Rick smiled at Vyvyan, cleared his throat, and in a loud voice he said, “My boyfriend Vyvyan, that’s  _ Vyvyan Basterd _ , has a bit of a sadomasochism kink. Now,  _ he’ll _ tell you that he’s the sadist. And he is, really. Everywhere except for the bedroom. In the _bedroom_ , he likes to be completely, utterly,  _ thoroughly _ dominated.”

“...I see.” Daz shot Vyvyan a slightly bemused glance. The punk seemed to have lost the ability to speak.

“Could you just walk me through some of these ah, items. And tell me how I could best use them to benefit Vyv?”

Vyvyan stared at his boyfriend in amazement. Where was his shy, innocent little virgin? Had Rick gone mad? 

“Right, well. This here is a riding crop.”

“Yes, I’ve had some experience with that one. I just sort of, hit him with it, do I?”

“That’s the general idea, yes.”

“Hmm.” Rick tested it against the counter and produced a satisfying  _ cracking _ sound against the glass. Vyv was genuinely disturbed by how fucking  _ sexy  _ the poet looked with a crop in one hand, and by how red his face looked. This wasn’t how things were supposed to go!  _ He _ was supposed to get Rick all hot and bothered, not the other way around!

“And these are handcuffs?”

“Ankle cuffs.  _ These _ are handcuffs.”

“Right, right. And this?”

“Spreader bar, sir. Sort of the opposite effect to ankle cuffs.”

“Mm-hmm. Mm-hmm. Very interesting.” Rick shot a glance at Vyv to see what kind of a reaction he was getting. He liked what he saw. 

“Right, well. I think I’ll buy the lot then, thanks.”

“ _ What? _ ” Vyv sputtered.

“Very good sir.” Daz rang up the charges with a grin, “Reckon you’ve got a keeper here, Vyv.”

“...I reckon you might be right.” Vyv muttered.

“What was that Vyvyan?”

“...Nothing.”

Contrary to what Vyv had planned, when they left the store it was the  _ punk _ in a horrendously flustered state, while Rick looked relatively calm. As they regrouped with the others and walked back towards

“What did you buy all that stuff for, poof?” 

“For you, obviously.” Rick replied.

“Well Christ, Rick, I didn’t bloody think you were buying it for anybody else! I  _ meant _ , what are you gonna do with it?”

“Well, I suppose I’m going to tie you up first, since I bought all these cuffs and chains and...things. And then I might give you a taste of your own medicine with that bloody vibrating knob. And since you were  _ so _ keen on that riding crop, I think-”

He was cut off rather suddenly when Vyvyan planted a violent, borderline obscene kiss on him.

“You’re bloody brilliant, you are.” The punk growled. Rick grinned.

“Well, I’ve always thought so. Shall we go home then, Vyvyan? Up to bed?”

“Too bloody right.” Vyv grabbed Rick around the waist and  _ carried _ him back towards the house, leaving Mike and Neil (and Neil’s new friend, of course) to their own devices.

“I think we might want to go out for the night, Neil.” Mike said.

“Why’s that?”

“Because it looks like Rick and Vyv are about to tear it down.”

*

Neil slept on the couch that night. His new friend, tentatively named Monica, had taken up residence in his room. In  _ his _ pajamas. He was still reduced to his Y fronts. Not that he got  _ much _ sleep, anyway. There was too much noise. He kept a cushion pressed against one ear, SPG pressed against the other, but it still wasn’t enough to block out the assorted screams and moans that echoed from Rick’s room at all hours. He hoped Monica rested a bit easier than he did, but somehow he doubted it. And he was  _ right _ to have his doubts, since unbeknownst to him, Mike snuck into his bedroom at the early hours to have a bit of a chat with the new lady of the house. And then proceeded to have  _ more _ than a bit of a chat with the new lady of the house.

But Rick and Vyv, when they finally  _ got _ to sleep in the early hours of the morning, slept remarkably well. Sweaty and exhausted, covered from head to toe in bite marks and chocolate stains, Vyv snored loudly with his head resting on Rick’s chest. He had angry red marks around his wrists and ankles and welts across the backs of his legs, but one could argue that Rick was in far worse condition. The poet had long, bloody scratches all down his back, and one of his pigtails had been ruddy well pulled  _ out _ . He couldn’t believe how little it bothered him. Couldn’t believe how much he’d blimmin’ well  _ enjoyed _ it. He kissed Vyv’s forehead with a devious smile and ran a hand through his flattened mo-hawk.

“That was blimmin’ brilliant, Vyv.”

“Mmph.” Vyv groaned, “I was  _ sleeping _ Rick. Shut your girly mouth for once.” 

“Funny, I didn’t hear you complaining about my girly mouth earlier.”

“Christ, don’t remind me. I’ll need at least a bloody week to recover from  _ that _ .”

“Well, that’s a pity. I have  _ plans _ for you, my lad. All sorts of disgusting, poofy, anarchic plans that would give Margret Thatcher a heart attack!”

“Bloody hell! I’ve created a monster.” Vyv wrapped himself around Rick and yawned, “Just give us half an hour, yeah? Quick nap, and then we’ll get back to it. I wanna have a go at the rotating function on that knob.”

“Not so fast, young man. I want to try out that spreader bar first.”

“... _ Christ _ .”

Well, it was certainly the best birthday Rick’d had in a while. Possibly the best birthday he’d had  _ ever _ . And he didn’t even get a cake! Or any presents, although Vyv was forever insisting that a vibrating knob  _ absolutely _ counted as a birthday gift. He didn’t have a party, or balloons, or even his parents. Just a punk and a tired old bed frame, and some horribly dirty equipment that he was most certainly going to hell for even  _ thinking _ about, let alone using, out of wedlock, on another boy. 

...And Rick wouldn’t have had it any other way. 

  
  



End file.
